


Cabin Fever (or: A Bad, Self-indulgent Character Study on Peter Nureyev)

by MelodyAR



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically a Nureyev character study, Carte Blanche family being functional (kind of), Comfort, Coping Mechanisms, Fluff, Gen, I spent an hour reading fluff fics and half an hour writing this, I’m sorry, Listen this started as angst but I’m not upset that it ended up here, Longer mention of a specific past trauma, M/M, Panic Attacks, Peter doesn’t like staying still, Rita is the best person, Self-Indulgent, Vespa is actually a nice person, brief mentions of past traumas, but not really, i have no idea what the timescale is meant to be, im tired ok, the author is dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22807231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyAR/pseuds/MelodyAR
Summary: It was getting worse.Juno notices something off about Peter. After a small issue leaves them stuck on the Carte Blanche longer than usual, he finds out what it is.
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko/Vespa, Juno Steel/Peter Nureyev, Just the whole Carte Blanche team being family, Rita & Juno Steel, Rita & Peter Nureyev
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	Cabin Fever (or: A Bad, Self-indulgent Character Study on Peter Nureyev)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this is the first fic I’ve written in a while (she says, shoving down the pile of half-done fics screaming for attention) and it’s not beta-ed and I wrote it at 9pm after being overcome with pure love for the Carte Blanche family so it’s 2000 words of self-indulgent crap. Also I love Rita. And Peter. And Juno. Buddy, Vespa and Jet are kind of neglected here but I love them too. I definitely am not projecting onto Juno when he thinks he’s being useless and this in no way is me trying to create a situation in which mental health problems can be resolved easily. Haha, why would you say that?
> 
> Anyway enjoy I guess.

It was getting worse.  
Juno Steel was still a detective - always would be, even if he went down in history as a criminal - and he knew how to read people. That included Peter Nureyev, despite his attempts to remain unknowable.  
He’d noticed it in the first week on board the Carte Blanche. Nothing big, nothing very obvious, just a small tremor in the hands. Peter was still graceful and sturdy; he didn’t drop anything (or at least, he caught the things he dropped quickly) and Juno dismissed it as being unused to the change in gravity.  
It disappeared whenever they reached a new planet. That was the tip that something was wrong. Peter would be sweeping and flowing and perfectly calm as he guided Juno through streets, nimble fingers plucking small trinkets out of stalls almost instinctively, no hint of hesitation or fear, clean movements that reflected nothing but a clear mind. It couldn’t be the difference in gravity, not when he handled the switch so well on planets.  
For a while, Juno ignored it. Maybe Peter was just good at hiding it when in character? After all, he had no reason to play a role on the Carte Blanche: Buddy had made it clear that there was no acting involved in the team’s relationships, and Peter knew not to cross her. It didn’t need to be a big deal, Juno reasoned. Just a quirk.  
Then there was a problem.  
Nothing that would unsettle the rest of the team, of course. There was simply an issue with information. The next heist had been misinformed, as Rita thankfully discovered the day before it happened, and so they were forced to drift away from any particular planet for an extra few days (a week maximum, Buddy said) while they figured out how to fix the mistake. They didn’t have a time limit; it wasn’t even that important a factor, just something that would make the final heist easier. There was no reason to worry.  
But Juno was very worried. Not for himself, not for the heist, not for any of the reasons he would’ve expected. He was worried for Peter.  
Firstly, the shade he’d turned when Buddy has announced the delay was appalling. Even beneath the ever-present makeup Juno could see him turn white, not changing his behaviour in the slightest but paling to the point where Juno was leaning to catch him. Juno had thought about confronting him just after, but Rita had insisted on a whole family movie marathon because ‘we all need a break, Mistah Steel, and you’re not gonna get out of relaxing! You promised you’d relax when I told you to! And I’m telling you!’ so Peter was temporarily off the hook.  
Then, at breakfast the next morning Juno tried to subtly ask Peter if they could talk, but Buddy swept in requesting help with organising the next supply run and Peter agreed so swiftly Juno knew he hadn’t been subtle enough.  
He tried to ask again the next day, but Peter had politely informed him that he would be eating alone as he had ‘developed a terrible headache’ and was struggling to sit in the light of the common room. Vespa had pointed out that they had painkillers, but he’d refused just as politely and vanished back into his room.  
Juno got a bit more worried when Peter bumped into the doorframe on his way out, and nearly dropped his plate as the door closed behind him.  
The next day, Peter didn’t leave his room at all. By this point Juno was ready to kick the door down to talk to him, but was still painfully aware that he couldn’t just cross those boundaries yet. That conversation after the first heist had done wonders for their relationship, but it was still unsteady. Still full of restraint, hesitation.  
The day after, Juno asked around to see if he’d just managed to miss Peter. Nobody had seen him. Nobody except Vespa, who remarked with an unusual concern that yeah, she’d seen him. He’d taken a handful of drugs from the med bay, and when she’d taken stock only half of them had been painkillers. Most of the rest had been sleeping pills. Peter had also taken a pack of strengthening drugs - the sort of things you gave someone who’d broken a limb so the atrophying muscles supported them once it had healed.  
For Juno, that was the last straw. Doing something that had Vespa nervous? (Well, maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Apprehensive, maybe. Unsettled.)  
Taking a deep breath, Juno knocked on Peter’s door. There was no response.  
A sick feeling settled in his stomach. A fear that Peter had left somehow, that he was gone, which was ridiculous because they were in the middle of space and Peter would have nowhere to go unless he hid in the Ruby 7 to escape during the upcoming supply run, which would be just as ridiculous and just the sort of thing that-  
Breathe, Steel.  
He knocked again.  
“Hey, uh, Ransom? Peter? It’s me.”  
No response.  
“I just need to check you’re ok. Nobody’s seen you in a while.”  
Silence.  
“Well, Vespa saw you. She said you took some meds? She’s worried.”  
A slight rustling. Quiet, angry muttering, shaking back to silence.  
“Look, are you going to open this door, or am I going to have to get Buddy to give me the master key?”  
That did something, even if the something was worrying Juno more.  
“I- please don’t-“ came the whimpering response. It sounded weak, and Juno remembered the strengthening drugs Peter took.  
“Can-“ oh, yeah. Now he really was scared. “Can you open the door?”  
The reply was a shuddering gasp, then a breath that sounded like a no.  
Juno rested his head against the locked door for a moment, then turned to leave.  
“Don’t-“ Peter choked out.  
No, of course. Peter wasn’t willing to face the team at breakfast. He wouldn’t be willing to face them now, in whatever state he was in.  
“Ok. I’ll get Rita. She won’t pry, I promise.”  
One small snack-related bribe and a few seconds of typing later, Peter’s door clicked open. Rita looked at Juno with concern brimming in her eyes, but nodded and moved away, presumably to binge Earth documentaries (she’d gotten really into nature stuff recently, and was fascinated by the concept of bees everywhere).  
Juno stepped inside. It was dark, and he slid the door mostly shut as he entered, leaving them with a sliver of light from the doorway and nothing else. He almost missed Peter on the bed, curled up so tightly that he was almost mistaken for a blanket.  
“Peter?” He whispered, scared to break the silence.  
Peter seemed to curl up a little bit tighter.  
“Nureyev?”  
A deep, trembling sigh. Better to call him Nureyev, then.  
Juno desperately wanted to ask what was going on, but he recognised a panic attack when he saw one. Peter’s whole body was shaking, his breathing shallow, and although Juno couldn’t see his face he knew that Peter was crying. Questions would just scare him more, he decided, so he fully closed the door, took off his jacket and shoes and lay down next to Peter instead. He counted to ten out loud, then back down, then back up, over and over. He didn’t know what methods would help, if Peter was even aware enough to listen, but he hoped that his voice would at least soothe Peter a little.  
Slowly, the shaking stopped. Juno kept counting for a while, then went quiet as Peter turned over to face him.  
“Hey,” Juno whispered. “You’re ok.”  
Peter laughed, a quiet and weak laugh that made Juno feel nauseous. How had he left it so late? Had Peter spent all of yesterday just like this? Had he eaten since breakfast two days ago?  
“I am definitively not ok, detective. I’d say look at the state I’m in, but I’d rather you not. I’m shaking too much to even sit up.”  
“What-“ Juno started, then stopped. Try with some tact, ‘detective’.  
“What caused it?” Peter continued, his voice still breathy and unsteady.  
The question hung for a moment.  
“I need to leave,” Peter said. Then, at the panicked look on Juno’s face, he corrected himself: “I don’t want to leave. I just feel like I have to.”  
Juno stayed silent, trying to make it as reassuring as possible.  
“I’ve never stayed in one place for more than a few days, with the exception of that... tomb... on Mars. I’ve lived my life running, because I’ve never had the luxury of a safe place to stay. I was taught at a very young age that staying still was the best way of getting caught, and I’ve done a great deal many more things to be afraid of being caught for since then.”  
“So... staying on the Carte Blanche makes you feel vulnerable?”  
“Incredibly. I get jittery whenever we stay in one place for two days. Waiting as long as this-“ Peter took another deep breath.  
“Oh,” Juno said. It felt lame. He was the polar opposite of Peter both in ability to talk and ability to stay in one place, and it was never more obvious than now. He had no idea what to say.  
Peter opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead he wriggled closer to Juno and laid his head on his chest.  
“Thank you,” he said.  
“I didn’t do anything,” Juno dismissed.  
“You came looking for me. You stayed. You listened.”  
Juno didn’t know what to say to that either, so he just lay there next to Nureyev and listened to the sound of them breathing. 

The next morning Peter was at breakfast. He wasn’t quite as lively as he had been, not quite as smooth in conversation or subtle in body language, but he seemed alright. Nobody pushed about it.  
That was mainly due to the fact that Peter was leaning into Juno for a significant part of the meal, and nobody was missing the way Juno smiled a little wider, or the way Peter slowly stopped wearing makeup around the ship. Nobody missed the way Peter’s room gradually became Peter and Juno’s room, or the way Juno’s room gradually became the spare room.  
Maybe Rita missed the way they lay twisted around each other on movie nights, or maybe she was just jealous Peter got more cuddles than she did now. They balanced it out eventually, Juno’s legs over Rita’s lap and his head on Peter’s.  
One day Peter explained to Rita why she had been asked to hack his door open. She nodded and smiled, wrapping him in a giant hug and telling him that he was always safe with her around.  
One day he explained to Vespa why he’d taken the meds without telling her. She rolled her eyes, reminding him that she was a medic and could’ve helped, pushing anxiety meds and a leaflet on panic attacks into his hand, not in an unaffectionate manner.  
One day he asked how Jet dealt with the malicious past lingering in his head. He taught Peter meditation and breathing techniques, working through each of them until they found one that seemed to work.  
One day, one unsteady day when the world seemed to hold its breath, to pause and let him reassess his surroundings, he explained it. Not all of it, probably not most of it, but Mag, and Brahma, and the debts that piled up; his relationship with Juno (at least the parts they were comfortable sharing), and then that led into Juno explaining a lot, about Benten and Annie and Jack-Takano-slash-Turbo-slash-Ramses-O’Flaherty. Then Jet spoke, then Vespa, then Buddy, and even Rita had a bit to say on the Theia Soul, among other experiences that Juno felt guilty over a dozen times (before Rita insisted that it didn’t matter anymore, and hugged him until he promised he’d forgive himself for it).  
Buddy set up a check-in routine, every day at breakfast, before any missions regardless of importance, before going to bed every night. Juno bemoaned it at first, but he admitted to Rita that he was glad they had an excuse to talk openly. It seemed to help Peter a lot as well, he pointed out, which made Rita smile. She may have teased him a bit about that, but it was ok.  
Despite it all, they were ok.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback welcome! Kudos encouraged! Give me validation! I need to engage with this fandom because I am starved for content already!


End file.
